


let me see another year like this

by FoxGlade



Category: The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: (also that harry knows peter is spider-man), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cuddling & Snuggling, Kid Fic, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, the canon divergence being that everyone is actually happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-21 00:12:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1530878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxGlade/pseuds/FoxGlade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two sleepovers (and blanket forts), seven years apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	let me see another year like this

**Author's Note:**

> this pairing refuses to leave me alone. and by "this pairing", i mean shena. shena refuses to leave me alone in regards to this pairing.
> 
> in section one, peter and harry are 10 and 11 respectively, and in section two they are 18 and 19
> 
> title from Nostalgia by Chance the Rapper

“Dad’s on a business trip, so it’s just us and the housekeeper,” Harry says excitedly, dragging Peter through the front room of the house and into the kitchen. “We can stay up late, and make milkshakes, and, and, we could make a fort! Dad doesn’t like me messing up the furniture, but we can tidy before I-“ He falls silent. Peter tugs on his hand and they stop, standing in the middle of one of the sitting rooms.

“Before you what?” he asks. “Before you go to sleep? That’s no fun, we gotta sleep in the fort!” He grins widely at Harry, showing off the brand new gap in his teeth, but Harry doesn’t even wrinkle his nose at the sight like he normally does.

Instead, he just looks upset, and scuffs his feet. “Doesn’t matter,” Harry mutters. “Come on, I wanna snack.”

He leads Peter to the kitchen, even though Peter could probably find his way around the house blindfolded if he tried. He should try that! He goes to suggest it to Harry, but he still looks sad, so instead he just squeezes his hand and follows.

 

* * *

 

“You remember the way around?” Harry asks, pulling off his sunglasses as they step inside. Peter looks around, wondering at how little has changed.

“Yeah, I think,” he says. He hangs his coat on a peg and automatically starts towards the kitchen, walking under the arched entrance into one of the sitting rooms. “Think there’s things in the fridge for a milkshake?”

“Should be.” They stroll through the rooms, Peter glancing at the sparse photos on the walls as they pass. They’re all formal photos, posed; no candids. He stops in front of one featuring a small, pale boy, looking at the camera with stern eyes, dressed crisply in a dark blue suit.

“I can’t believe I used to be that tiny,” Harry says next to him. Peter smirks and jogs him with an elbow.

“You’re still that tiny,” he retorts, and laughs when Harry shoves him.

“Loser. You were shorter than me,” Harry argues. “I had to get you a chair to stand on to wash your hands at the sink.”

“I remember that! Man, it really has been a while, hasn’t it,” Peter says with a smile. They stand in silence for a minute, before Harry shakes his head and walks away.

“Come on,” he says over his shoulder, “I’ll even get your ice cream for you. For old times’ sake.”

 

* * *

 

“I got a secret,” Harry whispers. They’re hiding under a pile of blankets, cushions and pillows packed unsteadily around them in a hasty attempt at a fort. Onscreen, Buzz is holding a tea-party in his pink apron.

“You already told me that Liz Allen held your hand during lunch on the last day of class,” Peter reminds him. Harry goes red and scowls.

“No,” he says crossly, “it’s a big secret. I didn’t wanna tell you.”

“Why not? We tell each other everything,” Peter replies, and now he’s feeling kinda cross too. He and Harry are best friends, and that means they don’t have secrets. Not real ones, anyway.

Harry stares at the TV for another few seconds, long enough for Peter to get impatient and poke him in the shoulder. “Remember how my dad said he went to boarding school when he was a kid?” Harry says, messing with the corner of the blue fluffy blanket with his fingertips. “He wants me to go to the same school.”

Peter looks at him with confusion. “You mean for high school?” he says blankly.

“No. He wants me to start there this year,” Harry says, and his cheeks are blotchy like he’s trying not to cry. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

 

* * *

 

“I always wanted to come up here,” Peter says, swinging his legs against the roof tiles. The sun is almost down, light glinting off the tiles of the houses around them. “When we were kids, I mean.”

“Probably for the best that Dad never let us,” Harry replies. “You wouldn’t exactly be able to catch me if I fell off then, would you?”

“I would’ve tried.” They sit in silence as the sun dips below the horizon finally, taking with it the last of the day’s heat. “You’d think I’d get tired of sitting on roofs all day, but… it’s still nice.”

“Even without the pigeons for company?” Harry asks, lazy smile firmly in place. Peter bumps their shoulders together.

“I guess my current company is fine,” he says, ignoring Harry’s mock-wounded noise. “I’d prefer pigeons, though.”

“I see how it is,” Harry murmurs, but he leans into Peter’s side all the same.

 

* * *

 

Peter’s been crying for _ages_ now, and Harry wouldn’t have told him the secret if he knew this was what would happen.

“We’ll write to each other every day!” he insists. Peter just hiccups and glares at him with puffy red eyes. “We’ll be penpals!”

“I don’t _want_ to be penpals,” Peter shouts. They’re still in the fort, but they’ve long since pushed off the blankets. “I want you to stay here and keep being my best friend!”

“We’re always gonna be best friends, Pete,” Harry says, reaching out and tugging on Peter’s hand. “We promised.”

Peter stares at him with wide eyes, before he sets his mouth in a determined scowl. “I’ll have to come with you, then,” he says, with all the resignation of an eleven year old.

“I don’t think you can,” Harry replies uncertainly, but Peter’s determined now. He scoots himself closer to Harry and lets go of his hand to wrap both arms around him.

“If I don’t let go, then you can’t go without me,” he explains, voice muffled by the blankets tangled around their shoulders. “Then we can be best friends forever.”

Although Harry knows there’s a problem with the plan, he’s happy enough that Peter’s stopped crying that he doesn’t ask questions. “Okay,” he says, and curls up tighter against his best friend.

 

* * *

 

“My bed is huge, you know,” Harry says, rolling his eyes as Peter tugs him down the stairs. “And it’s comfortable. Much more comfortable than a pile of couch cushions on the floor.”

“Yeah, but is it more fun? I don’t think so,” he replies happily.

“I can think of a few things to do in my bed that are more fun than-”

Harry stumbles over Peter’s casually outstretched leg and grabs his arm to keep himself upright. “Oh, sorry Harry,” Peter says, vainly attempting to keep a straight face. “Don’t worry, it happens all the time, people just seem to fall all over me.”

“You brat,” Harry says, and swipes at the back of Peter’s head. “Fine, you wanna be a little kid again? Be my guest, pal.”

It only takes five or so minutes to set up a fort far superior to any they’d built as kids, and for all his complaints, Harry’s as enthusiastic about it as Peter is. He draws the line at putting on Toy Story, however.

“I get it,” Peter murmurs when they’re huddled under a pile of blankets, pressed close enough to see each other’s faces in the dark of the room. “You’ve just got no love in your cold, businessman heart for nostalgia and excellent movies.”

“Yeah, that’s me. No love in my heart,” Harry returns dryly. “Why am I doing all of this, again?”

“Because we’re best friends forever,” Peter says in a high-pitched voice, his grin a flash of teeth in the dark. Harry laughs, and when Peter opens his mouth to add something else he leans over and kisses him. Only to shut him up, of course.

It’s a very effective strategy.

 

* * *

 

When they wake up in the morning, still tangled together, the housekeeper wakes them and shoos them off to get dressed in time for Harry to leave. They don’t let go of each other until the driver physically pulls them apart, and Peter cries until Uncle Ben arrives to pick him up, ten minutes later.

“It’ll be alright, son,” Uncle Ben says, gently patting his shoulder. Peter sniffs loudly and hunches in on himself. “Just you wait. It’s all gonna be fine.”

 

* * *

 

When they wake up in the morning, still tangled together, Peter stretches as much as he can without waking Harry and settles again, closing his eyes and digging his nose back into Harry’s neck. Everything’s fine.


End file.
